Forever Lost
by Diablo Omega
Summary: In the OVA, Setsuna goes to Hades to be forever with the soul of his beloved Sara. But what happens when all does not go as planned?


'Forever Lost'  
  
Written by Diablo Omega  
  
Summary: In the OVA, Setsuna sacrifices his life to be forever with Sara in Hades. But what happens when all does not go as planned?  
  
Warnings: There is the implication of an incestuous relationship, depression, and the voluntary letting of blood. That's about it...  
  
Disclaimer: As much as I wish it were otherwise, I do not own Angel Sanctuary or any characters mentioned therein.  
  
A/N - I rented the OVA of Angel Sanctuary, and it blew me away. The animation, the story, and the characters so richly woven they seem almost real. I would encourage ALL of you to go and see it. You may not all enjoy it as much as I did, but at least you can move yourself one space closer to being a true fan of anime. Well, enough of my cheap advertising! On with the story...  
  
Dark red clouds swirled low over the sickly yellowish-green grass growing feebly out of the rocky soil. Thunder rumbled overhead as a brilliant bolt of forked lightning illuminated briefly the depressing landscape. Only a gentle breeze sounded about this place, gently tugging at the luminous feathers of a teenager's massive, elegant wings and fair-colored hair. Setsuna Mudo exhaled and gently rubbed his chest where the incarnation of Seven Blades, the seven-bladed sword of the Holy Spirit, known on Earth as Kira, had transfixed his heart on the silvery blade of Seraphita's dagger. Granted, it had gained his passage to Hades, Land of the Dead, but it had hurt incredibly. Almost as much as when Sara, his only love and blood sister, had thrown herself in front of him to shield Setsuna from the attack of his would-be assassin: Katan the Cherub, who was on a mission to remove the source of his master's suffering: Setsuna's containment of Alexiel's spirit. His heart and very soul had shattered in that instant, setting in motion the reawakening of the angel Alexiel, who had since his birth shared his body. In that pained fury, he had destroyed Katan and all of Tokyo. Seraphita, the most powerful celestial being after God, had restored everything to the way it was mere moments before Alexiel's awakening, so that Alexiel could free Seraphita and cleanse the corrupted hierarchy of Heaven.  
  
Now he was here, to search for the soul of his beloved and return with her to Earth before he freed Seraphita. The Organic Angel incarnate walked swiftly to the River Styx, glancing deep into the current's stormy gray depths. He would have to cross to truly reach the Land of the Dead, and in turn find Sara. As he stood from where he had been crouching, he was not at all startled to see a tall, skeletal man punting a long, narrow vessel upriver toward him. The ferryman's skin was stretched tautly over his bones, at least as much as Setsuna could see outside of the man's long, ragged tunic, its color faded from centuries of wear.  
  
"Charon..." nodded the teen, greeting the ferryman. As he stepped into the boat, Setsuna said to Charon, "I have no gold for the toll..."  
  
The boatman smirked, showing off his proud collection of rotting greens stumps, and replied, "Well, in that case I will take a blood tax."  
  
Setsuna took the lengthy needle handed to him, and drove it through his left hand, biting his bottom lip to keep from crying out. He tasted the harsh, metallic tang of blood in his mouth as he bit open his lip, letting the thick trickle of sanguine fluid splash from his palm into a pewter goblet setting on the seat behind Charon. Having paid his toll, Setsuna tore a considerable strip of linen from the wrapping wreathing his left arm and bound his pierced hand to quell the flow of blood.  
  
The river was at least a mile wide, and at the relatively slow pace Charon had set, Setsuna reached the opposite bank roughly twenty minutes later. No sooner had the vessel brushed the yellow vegetation of the shore, than the angel leapt from the ferry. Striding away, he shivered unconsciously as he felt the empty, soulless eyes of the River's ferryman leering at him in the ceaseless twilight.  
  
The angel saw as he walked countless lost souls, toiling at various and presumably ironic punishments. There were also figures perhaps a foot taller than any man, draped entirely in black robes, watching over the laboring spirits. All the specters had a pair of magnificent black wings growing from their shoulders, and the one Setsuna approached had swathed itself in its ailerons. The teen stood before the apparition, asking boldly, "Where is Sara Mudo?"  
  
The apparent overseer shifted its gaze to Setsuna, or at least the angel assumed, judging by how the inky material of the hood had shifted as if its wearer were scrutinizing him. It drew in a long breath, replying in an inhuman whisper, "You would do well to inquire that of Lord Azrael, if you truly wish to know." That having been said, the shade returned to its observation of some hopeless lost soul.  
  
'Azrael...' thought Setsuna, continuing to travel east, further into the Realm of Death. 'He is the Angel of Death, and therefore Lord and master of this domain. HE will know where I may find Sara...' For many hours he traveled on, the thought of again seeing his beloved pushing him past all limits, despite his body's protests. All through his questing, the overburdening crepuscule of Death had not changed in the slightest. Because of this, Setsuna had absolutely no idea how long he had been walking, what time it was, or even if it was day or night. All he had to go on was his weariness to tell him how long he had been traveling.  
  
It was many hours after he entered Death that the teenager had to stop, legs simply too wearied to continue. He collapsed in the middle of the same endless stretch of barren plain he had been walking through since he arrived. He soon fell into a fevered sleep; his dreams were haunted by memories of reading about all the demons and horrible creatures that populated Death, constantly preying on any unaware souls they could find. Also within his thoughts was Sara, and how he must help her and be with her, or else something truly awful would happen to her.  
  
Setsuna woke, forehead bathed in sweat, maybe three hours after he had collapsed. He stood and, though his leg were still unsteady beneath him, pushed himself to keep going; ignoring his agonized limbs' cries as they were forced beyond human endurance. After another pain-racked marathon, he found himself gasping and sweating on the marble steps of Azrael's palace. He struggled up the lengthy staircase and his progress at the top was impeded by two black-robed angels. They were holding massive swords imbued with magic so old even Seraphita could not remember it. As he strove to regain his breath, Setsuna was rocked by the eruption of a third, radiant wing from between his shoulders. With this, the guards uncrossed their swords and allowed whom they realized to be Organic Angel Alexiel to pass. Entering the main hall, the teen found a broad, sweeping staircase leading up to a massive doorway. Realizing this would be where Azrael could be found, Setsuna lifted cramped legs; disregarding the painful twinges his legs underwent with each step. At the top, he was bowed into an extravagant chamber, built of polished black marble and decorated with banners of purple. Every one of these pennants was embroidered with a silver key and a long-handled scythe; the two of them crossed in a St. Andrew's cross and were the personal device of the Angel of Death. A high-backed throne sat at the far wall, and in sat the most feared heavenly figure to ever have existed. Azrael, the Angel of Death, wore a shimmering black kimono, and in his right hand he held a scythe on a handle of polished ash: the symbol of his rank. His pallid skin was pulled taut over his high, aristocratic cheekbones, and his bottomless eyes burned with silver flame. He stood, letting his three black-feathered wings extend, as the blade of his sickle hissed past his foot. The Reaper strode toward Setsuna and embraced him with his left arm, saying, "I have missed you, Alexiel."  
  
Setsuna shivered uncontrollably, for being held so close to Azrael he felt as if he had been plunged into solid ice.  
  
The Angel of Death released him, and smiled gently. "So, why have you returned?" inquired Azrael, glancing over the shaking, tired frame of Setsuna Mudo.  
  
"I am searching for the soul of my sister, Sara Mudo," replied the teen.  
  
"Wait a moment," uttered the Reaper, eyes closing as he searched every corner of Hades for Sara's presence. As he did so, and as he looked deep inside his own soul as well, frost gathered on his still form. Momentarily, Azrael's eyes slid slowly open, and he shed flakes of ice. His long raven locks were still somewhat stiff with crystals, and he shook his head morosely. "As much as I am remorseful, I sense no soul of that name. She may have been already reincarnated, or perhaps entombed in the confines of Limbo."  
  
Setsuna's mind and very soul shattered at the instant that the works fell from the lips of the Angel of Death. He nodded dumbly, unaware of what Azrael was now saying. He turned, silently and numbly walking toward the doors. Setsuna did not recall how he made it to the foot of the front stairs. His legs seemed to have been carrying him under their own accord, and he did not really care. Not two steps from the bottom step, he collapsed to his knees with a sob. Tears beaded in his eyes and blurred his vision; falling heavily to the barren soil, splintering into innumerable shards on impact. His fingers dug long furrows through the loose earth, and his saffron bangs brushed the dirt. His world was being torn asunder at the seams. He had lost Sara, his one true love. His sins were now innumerable, and he was eternally trapped in the Land of the Dead, unable to escape and fulfill his obligation to Seraphita, Kirai, and the rest of his compatriots in Alexiel's newest purge of evil in Heaven. He was alone. Alone. Forever lost... 


End file.
